


Runaways

by furorem_yandere



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, Fear Play, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Manipulation, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Paranoia, Stalking, Yandere, Yandere!Spy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:37:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furorem_yandere/pseuds/furorem_yandere
Summary: Anonymous asked:yandere spy when he finds his s/o unsuccessfully trying to run? maybe they got caught in a trap, or shot in the leg, idk ;p (on a side note i just found ur blog but hooly shit im so glad i did your writing is amazing and I love how u write for multiple fandoms ahhh) (also if you go with this request, thank you!!)





	Runaways

“Just coffee and a, uh, special,” you murmur, avoiding eye contact for looking out the window.  The waiter boredly writes it down and walks away.

Your eyes scan the outside parking lot.  You’re in the middle of nowhere.  You should be fine, and yet you feel anxious.  Small towns talk, and you’re an outsider, easily noticed.  Maybe this was a gamble, but you’d tried the city last time he conveniently “forgot” to lock the door and he still found you, curled in an alleyway.

You look around the diner, keeping inconspicuous.  A woman chats with a friend.  She and her friend are safe.  He always finds you alone and without a partner.

There’s a man writing in a corner booth who occasionally erases something and starts again, staring out a window.  He fixes a glove and your eyes draw to the movement.  Alarm bells ring in your head but you remain seated.

You think you see a suit outside.  You check the reflection in the shiny napkin holder and see a businessman staring back at you, undoing his tie.  He smiles beneath a mustache and winks.  You bite your lip and avert your gaze, holding your breath until he sits in a booth a few from yours by himself.

You look at the waiter when he comes back, a vaguely annoyed looking teenager with an acne issue and a stylish haircut.  He gives you your food with bored ceremony and leaves you to it, refilling your coffee on the way off.  Your eyes catch his hands when they straighten impeccable cuffs.  You swallow.

You eat slowly and try to enjoy it despite the rising panic.  If he catches you, he’s surely going to try and feed you himself since you’ll without a doubt go back to being handcuffed, and you like to put up a fight so he knows you won’t go easily.  It’s pitiful, but you try to keep yourself together.

You don’t notice you’re breathing hard until the waiter comes back.  “Are you okay there, dude?” he asks, some concern seeping into his voice through the boredom.

You look up and you know it’s him.  He’s well disguised, but you know him too well now not to spot him.  He grins and it’s all him but also not because he’s pasty white, with swim trunks and a bucket hat, a pair of sunglasses folded into a tank top.  

“Hey Sweetie, sorry I’m late,” he says with a Midwestern American accent that’s pretty good if you’re honest.  If you didn’t know it was him, you’re sure you’d have thought he was just some guy that mistook you for his wife.

“Hey man, is this your broad?  She’s breathin’ kinda hard.  You know if she’s got a condition or somethin’?” the waiter asks.  You feel a spark of affection for the boy.  He had no idea who you were; who  _he_  was, and yet showed a minuscule of concern for you.

“Nah, don’t worry.  She was probably just nervous waiting for me,” he says quietly, giving the waiter an earnest look.  You stare down and try to get his eyes out of your head.  You don’t listen to their conversation anymore.

He sits across from you at the table and you regret that there didn’t exist a table for one in restaurants.  “You’re getting better,” he praises.  “I almost didn’t find you this time,” he says moving a hand across the table to take your hand.  He smiles and it reaches his eyes.  You stare at the table, letting him do as he like, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

“…Where did I go wrong?” you ask.

The Spy smiles and opens his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> follow at furorem-yandere.tumblr.com for more yandere headcanons and stories! <3


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